


The Afreet

by tinydooms



Series: We Three Together [8]
Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, Burgeoning Romance, Expanded Scene, F/M, Miscommunication, and the action men who love them, lady scholars being badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24185890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinydooms/pseuds/tinydooms
Summary: All this time, Evie had thought he liked her. True, he had teased her on the boat and then thrown her over the side, but from the moment those river pirates had attacked them until they got back to Cairo, O’Connell had been at her side, a steady and dependable presence. And he had respected her, too. Not once had he acted like he knew better than she did, and so to have him assume he knew best now was insulting as well as hurtful. It would have been better, Evie felt, if he had left because he was frightened. God knew she was afraid. But to simply storm out because he didn’t think she could handle it--!
Relationships: Evy Carnahan O'Connell/Rick O'Connell
Series: We Three Together [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714483
Comments: 16
Kudos: 73





	The Afreet

**The Afreet**

_Fort Brydon, Cairo, October 1922_

Evie listened to O’Connell storm out of the flat, slamming the front door behind him, and tried not to boil with indignation. Drat O’Connell. She had counted on his help. She had counted on _him_ . Evie had grown used to him over the past fortnight, used to his calm handle on everything, used to the way he never seemed to lose his head at a setback. The mummy was a setback if Evie had ever heard of one. She sighed, bending to pick her clothes up off of the floor. _Drat_ O’Connell. Why did he have to be such a--such a _man?_

All this time, Evie had thought he liked her. True, he had teased her on the boat and then thrown her over the side, but from the moment those river pirates had attacked them until they got back to Cairo, O’Connell had been at her side, a steady and dependable presence. And he had respected her, too. Not once had he acted like he knew better than she did, and so to have him assume he knew best now was insulting as well as hurtful. It would have been better, Evie felt, if he had left because he was frightened. God knew _she_ was afraid. But to simply storm out because he didn’t think she could handle it--!

Well, confound the man, she would do this by herself. With Jonathan’s help, of course, Evie reminded herself. Jonathan could wield a gun perfectly well when he wanted to. Not that bullets were going to be of any use here. No, this was going to require logic, research, and magic. Three days ago, Evie would have scoffed at the notion of magic, and lord only knew that she had. _If I can see it, if I can touch it, then it’s real_ , she had said to O’Connell. Well, she had certainly seen it, and _it_ had tried to touch _her_ Evie suppressed a shudder. Who was he, and why had he suffered the _hom dai_ ? And _how_ to put him back in his grave?

 _Research_ , Evie thought. _I need to get to the library_. She winced, remembering the state she had left it in, and the looks on the faces of Abdul and Mohammed as they contemplated righting the bookshelves and stacking the books. More men who thought she was an idiot. _O’Connell doesn’t think you’re an idiot_ , a small voice inside her whispered. Evie shook her head to clear it. There was work to do. Abandoning the mess that O’Connell had made of her clothes, she left her bedroom and strode across to the front door. There was a small yellow suitcase set down next to it, abandoned. Evie blinked at it, not recognizing it. All at once she realized that it was O’Connell’s, and her heart began to race. What did _that_ mean? A small, hopeful flicker began to burn in her breast. Maybe--maybe--

 _Don’t think about that right now_ , Evie told herself sternly. O’Connell had probably just forgotten it in his bad mood and would be back for the case later. She stepped around it and went out the door. 

The first order of business was to ask one of the grooms to bring the car around from the garage. This was easily accomplished; the grooms loved having a chance to drive an actual motorcar. Evie sent him off with _baksheesh_ and a warning to take the corners carefully, and went off in search of a telephone. She needed to call home to the house in Zamalek and tell Daoud that they had returned early. Their _reis_ had been ambivalent about the proposed trek, but he had also known Evie and Jonathan since they were babies and was well aware of the archaeological fervour that regularly overtook them both. He would want to know that they had returned safely. Fatima, his wife and the Carnahan family housekeeper, would as well. 

There was a telephone on the secretary’s desk in the B Company offices; Evie had half finished dialing when it occurred to her that perhaps it was better that Daoud and Fatima _not_ know that they had returned early. If they learned that Evie had awakened an _afreet_ , they would be horrified. No, Evie thought, placing the receiver in its socket, better to get everything sorted before worrying anyone unduly. The mummy was still out in the Western Desert. Best to let her household think that’s where she and Jonathan were, too. 

Speaking of Jonathan, she needed to find him before she left for the museum. Her hands in the pockets of her cardigan, Evie walked out of the office into the colonnade. The air felt strangely close, now that she thought about it, and there was an unseasonable rumbling of thunder in the distance. 

“Looks like it’s going to storm,” a passing soldier commented, and Evie looked up at the sky, frowning. 

“Oh, Evelyn!” came a shout and she turned to see O’Connell running full tilt towards her. 

Evie’s heart leaped, but she was still upset with him. 

“Oh, so you’re still here,” she said, trying for coolness. 

O’Connell slid to a stop before her, chagrin on his face. 

“We’ve got problems,” he began, but a bang cut him off before he could continue.

Evie jumped, startled, as the storm broke overhead. And what a storm it was: huge pieces of hail rained down in the courtyard as thunder crashed, hail and--was that _fire_ ? What looked like a meteor burst in the sky, crashing into the roof of a nearby building and igniting several palms. Evie had never been in a firestorm, but certainly that was what was happening. Without meaning to, she stepped closer to O’Connell, who seized her by the arm and tugged her along down the colonnade. The people in the courtyard were yelling and ducking for cover, leaping out of the way of the burning trees and bushes, trying to get away from the pebble-sized hail. O’Connell said a rude word and pulled Evie closer to the wall, sheltering under the roof by the C Company stairs. His hand wrapped around hers, his grip crushing. Evie clung to him, staring out at the mayhem in the courtyard. What on earth was _happening_? 

O’Connell lurched as though someone had run into him, knocking heavily into Evie. She jumped around as he yelled and grabbed at a man trying to run past. Could that possibly be--

“Beni, you little stinkweed, where’ve you been?” O’Connell roared, slamming him against the wall. It was a good question; Evelyn couldn’t remember seeing him once after waking the mummy. 

A horrible screaming roar filled the air behind them, coming from the apartment upstairs. Horror rushed through Evie; she had heard that scream before, back in Hamunaptra, when the mummy had reached for her and only O’Connell’s sudden appearance had prevented it from touching her. O’Connell whipped around, reaching for his pistol with one hand and Evie’s hand with the other. 

“Come on,” he said, tugging her after him up the stairs. 

Evie was glad of his hand in hers as they ran; she thought that if he hadn’t been touching her, she might have curled up, crying in terror. That sound _here_ , at a modern fort, in _Cairo_ of all places, and the fire and hail outside--! _He’s supposed to be in the desert, not here, never here_ , everything in Evie screamed even as she realized that they were running towards the Americans’ rooms, to where a doctor had set poor Mr. Burns to rest after his ordeal--

O’Connell dropped her hand as they neared the apartment. The door stood wide open. 

“Stay behind me,” O’Connell murmured, holding his gun at the ready, and recognizing sense when she heard it, Evie did as she was told. 

They pushed through the open door, O’Connell checking to see that the way was clear, and stopped dead in horror.

What was left of Mr. Burns lay sprawled in an armchair, grey and desiccated, mouth agape in a silent scream. And beyond him, stretching and flexing as his body regenerated, was the mummy. He turned to look at them and bellowed again, his grey flesh rippling over freshly repaired ribs. 

“ _Fuck!_ ” O’Connell snarled, and opened fire on the creature.

Evie yelped, slamming her hands over her ears. The noise was incredible, a mixture of the creature’s inhuman roars, O’Connell’s shouting, the report of his pistols and the bullets spraying into the mummy. There were shouts behind them; Jonathan, Daniels, and Henderson running into the room and joining the firefight. It was all so fast, so noisy. The bullets had no effect but to ruin the decor; the mummy reached O’Connell and pushed him backwards, sending him crashing into the other men. And then it turned to Evie. 

It _spoke_. It’s voice was deep and harsh, but there was a note of kindness in it, of thanks. It made her think of hieroglyphs, of the long-dead language that she had spent her entire life studying but never heard aloud. For a moment, through her terror and revulsion, Evie was fascinated, and then the creature leaned in, tilting its head, its melting lips pursed, and she squawked her dismay. Something happened then--later, Jonathan would tell her it was her “damned feline” walking on the piano--and the mummy bellowed again, and turned to sand, and blew away. Evie covered her face in her arms, cowering, as wind whipped at her skirts. And then there was silence. 

Evie lowered her arms and met O’Connell’s eyes. She opened her mouth, closed it. What could she say? The mummy she had conjured was _here_ , at Fort Brydon, in Cairo, and Mr. Burns was dead. O’Connell rolled to his feet and stumbled to her, his big hands gripping her shoulders. 

“ _Are you okay?_ ”

“Yes,” Evie gasped, startled by his vehemence. “I’m fine. I think I’m fine.”

O’Connell let out a deep breath. “Good. That’s good.”

“Son of a bitch!” Mr. Henderson cried, leaping upright. “Bernie!”

There was more chaos then, Mr. Daniels and Mr. Henderson shouting and weeping over their friend, O’Connell summoning help, Jonathan passing his flask of brandy around. Evie stood by the bookshelf, trying to remember how to breathe, as a couple of medics covered poor Mr. Burns’s body and carried him away. Jonathan tried to get her to sit, but she couldn’t move. 

“What the hell does this guy want?” Mr. Henderson demanded, his handsome face contorted with rage and fear. 

“Whatever he wants, we need a plan,” O’Connell said. “Evelyn?”

Evie pulled in a deep breath. “Before all this--before the storm--I asked for the car to be brought round so that I could go to the museum. I think Dr. Bey might know what to do.”

“That’s what we were thinking,” Jonathan said. “Well, we thought of the library, down in the bar.”

“Let’s go,” O’Connell said, and led the way downstairs. 

The fires outside had been put out, but Evie winced at the damage as they passed it. What Jonathan had said tugged at her thoughts. 

“What were you doing in the bar?” she asked O’Connell in an undertone.

He gave her a surprised look. “Sulking, mostly. Having a drink.”

“I thought you were leaving. You said you were.” _But you left your suitcase upstairs_. 

O’Connell sighed and scrubbed a hand through his already messy hair. “Yeah, well, I’m not. You can’t do this alone.”

It was an astonishing statement and Evie stared at him. But they were at the car, Mr. Daniels and Mr. Henderson climbing into the back, Jonathan into the driver’s seat. O’Connell held the door open for her and Evie slid in beside her brother. Jonathan gave her a nudge. 

“To the museum, old mum?”

“Yes,” Evie said. “To the museum.”

  
  
  
  


Author's Note: an afreet is a kind of Arabic djinn or demon, a supernatural creature. I was going to give this story another tarot card name, but then realized that the title I'd selected is better off on a future story, so. I hope you like this fic! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think in the comments!


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